Shadows
by Arrington Blake
Summary: "They say 'if you love someone, let them go.' But it's not about letting her go, its accepting that she belongs with someone else, more so than she ever did with him. It's about seeing his brother happy for the first time in a century." Stefan happens upon a dance lesson between Damon and Elena and ponders his own break up with Elena and her growing relationship with Damon. OS


Rating: k+ (as always, to be safe)  
Pairing: Damon and Elena  
Timeline: Somewhere in the ambiguous beginning/middle-ish of season three. Know that Season One and two have  
happened and you'll be good.

Summary: "They say 'if you love someone, let them go'. But it's not as much about letting her go, as it is accepting that  
she _needs _to be, that she _belongs_ with someone else, more so than she ever did with him. It's about seeing his  
brother happy for the first time in over a century." Stefan happens upon a dance lesson between Damon and  
Elena, and ponders his own break up with Elena and her growing relationship with Damon._One Shot._

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of _The Vampire Diaries_. This particular plot line is mine but the characters, setting,  
and love triangles belong to Kevin Williamson and his wonderful staff. Neither are the lyrics used in the  
begging, middle, and end of the story, mine. Those are from Frank Sinatra's hit _Hello Young Lovers_. I claim  
no rights to this song, nor making any revenue by including it in this story (which I also make no revenue  
from)  
Don't sue.

Authors Note (a long but IMPORTANT one):

Hello Again!

First I would like to note that several reviews for _She is Screaming_ asked about a sequel or second chapter, like this and my first story (_Passion for Healing or Two as Broken_) it was intended to be a one shot. The complete answer/detailed address to that question is on my profile. Thank you so much for your support, I encourage you to PM me if you have any  
suggestions, requests or questions. I love and appreciate hearing from you, more than I can say, really.

Second, I am still looking for prompts and a beta (all mistakes are mine). I know there is a way to search for this on the site, but sometimes the best help comes from readers or a reader than knows someone who knows someone, so if you have any news or suggestions on either of these matters I am desperate to hear from you. Also, the reviews for my last story were phenomenal, thank you so much; I hope that this story receives the same about of honor and attention.

Now for this story, (here we go number THREE),  
I was listening to the song _Kiss Me Slowly _by Parachute when I was struck with the idea for this fic. The idea for this one shot, was to show a snippet of Stefan's opinion and attitude towards Damon's relationship with Elena, which is something we see occasionally but not in any great depth, on the show. His attitude was the toughest part to write. As always, I hope I did it justice.

* * *

Shadows  
By Arrington Blake

_I know how it feels to have wings on your heel  
And to fly down the street in a trance  
You fly down a street on a chance that you'll meet  
And you meet not really by chance_

They are a pair of shadows by his bedroom door.

Stefan is jogging down the steps, on his way to grab another blood bag from the basement, when he sees them. The shaded, gold illumination from two, tall lamps in Damon's room splashes through the threshold behind them, casting their darkness against the hallway's far wall.

He doesn't want to think it is symbolic.  
He know it is.  
Karma likes to remind him of the symbolism in things.

Like the fact that the two of them, his ex-girlfriend and his brother, are standing between Damon's doorway and the hallway, dancing back and forth, litterally and figuratively, between whether they're going to fall into his bedroom or stay 'just' friends. A decision…a line they've been teetering on since the day they met.

Damon's letting her take her time which is something he's never done with anyone else before.

And here everyone thought he was the better brother, so much better than Damon.

More noble.  
And honest.  
And true.  
And nice.  
And kind.  
And sincere.

But sincerity was something he had learned only by copying it, in order to seduce young women to bow over his body, so he could drain them.

Feed himself.  
Rip them to shreds.  
Resemble them.  
Sign their name.  
Poor himself a drink and repeat.

He is a self-admitted ripper and the handfuls of other great compliments people give his personality only appear in between his falls off the wagon.

And when he falls, he falls hard, on concrete, from a skyscraper, and rolls….and falls again…off a cliff.

It's funny because it isn't.  
His two personalities are an ever present contradiction. One too controlled, one lacking any semblance of the word.

And though Damon may be darker, he's never lied about who and what he is.

It's funny, because Stefan sees himself as so much…  
...not better but safer.  
More safe than his volatile, darker, older brother, but when push comes to shove, he has a much higher tally of devastation than Damon does.

They aren't kissing, but it's just a matter of time. Damon's cradling Elena's hand in his; her body close to his as he dances her around in the patch of open space made up of the hallway and the square just inside his open bedroom door. An impromptu dance lesson to a well-remembered song from the fifties that Damon sings under his breath with a cadence and timbre very few people know he is capable of. He's slowed the tempo of the song down considerably. Stefan reasons that it's probably so he can keep Elena in his arms longer, even if Damon's now swinging her up towards the ceiling and down around his waist in a signature move borrowed from _White Christmas. _

It's surprising because it shouldn't be.  
After all Damon is a great a dancer, a man who filled dance cards not only because of his devilish smile and azure blue eyes but also because he danced with a passion and a poise no one could learn; Elena has always loved to dance and Stefan knows she's yearned to be able to conquer the elegant dances of times past.

She and Damon are quite a pair.

But they're a pair that everyone thought would always stay in the shadows, always a brush away from being something more and seeing the two of them joined at the soul with an openness that doesn't escape Stefan's notice, is surprising.

And then Damon slides her through his legs and throws her up towards the wood beamed ceiling –

-and she laughs.

Not a giggle, not the cracked chuckle that she used to give Stefan when he said something funny or even tickled her sides but a real, deep, clanking bells, kind of laugh, its full and happy and absolutely ridiculous and it makes him want to laugh.

Ironic, because he's sure he used almost the same words to describe Katherine; he tries to convince himself that she's never been further from his mind.

Stefan hasn't heard it in a while. Her laugh. And though it tears a hole in his heart to know that Damon is the one coaxing that sound from Elena's body, he's happy to hear it. From the moment they met in the kitschy Salvatore great room, Damon has had a way of soothing and renewing Elena that Stefan doesn't understand.

That no one understands.

Their break up had been messy. His face covered with blood as he threatened her with half-truths and words and broken memories he knew would hurt. He wants to convince himself that he was just trying to save her, be a hero, but even in his darkest moments Damon hadn't tried to drive her off a bridge (any bridge, let alone the one that had caused her parent's deaths). Damon hadn't allowed her to make her own choices, only to parade the fact that HE was the one _allowing _her the privilege.

Stefan, himself, had threatened her, broken her, and ended it.  
When he minced words and explanation it came down to the simplicity of a single sentence.

It made sense that after burning even the most slender threads of their tattered relationship, Elena would turn to Damon.

His brother.  
The elder Salvatore.  
Renewing a love triangle that had dammed them for over a century.

Only this time, it was his fault.

She's singing with him now, even if Stefan doesn't want to notice he can't ignore the sound of her repeating the chorus, her notes light and beautiful against the deep, round sound of Damon's. It's then that Stefan pays attention to the lyrics. Really pays attention.

"Be brave young lovers" he sees her question, looking up at Damon with deep brown eyes that smolder in a way Stefan has never seen before, making sure she has the words right before she continues.

Damon stopped singing a moment ago, Stefan notices, letting Elena lead the song as he spins her in turns around and along his lithe body. His black shirt and boot cut jeans are no rat pack suit, nor is her scarf, tank top, and short denim skirt a slender, intoxicating dress of the time but the words of the song and the feel of the moves they're making transports them all back to the door of the war. An era in which Stefan had been pulling himself back together by his bootstraps, in the outpatient program of Lexi's Rehab. The fates don't allow him to miss the symmetry of this moment.

"-and follow your star. Be brave and faithful and true"

"You got it" Damon promises when she questions him again, his voice a brush against her ear, like the heavy but soft flap of a reven's wing, as he urges her to abandon any insecurities she has when she's around him. He lifts her up, encouraging her to lock one leg around his thigh so she can fan the other out in move that should be illegal, _especially _in that skirt, before he dips her down and brings her back in so close to his body that a breath can't separate them, "cling very close to each other tonight" he prompts when he notices she hasn't sung for a few counts.

"I've been in love like you."

Stefan mumbles the last words with the pair and sees his brother's eyes rise, searching for someone in the darkness. A breathing he hadn't heard before. After a moment Elena never noticed, Damon dips her again, soft and very low, leaving the lyrics to collide and burn inside Stefan's head. He knows he has no right to miss her.

To pine for her in the shadows of a stairway to a room she's almost forgotten.  
He does anyway.

The song has ended, they're swaying to the disappearing, whisper of the verse, and Stefan's about to grit his teeth and head down the steps, pass them, grab a stolen bag of blood and hope it soothes him, when he hears Elena's quiet voice ask, "Where'd you learn to dance like this?"

Stefan stiffens, unsure as to whether or not Damon is going to push her away, ruin the moment that they've had because she's gotten to close. And a hidden, darker part of Stefan wouldn't mind if he did.

It's a fault of the universe that his and his brother's happiness often relies on one of them making a mistake.

Damon surprises Stefan and answers Elena, in a voice choked with the memories "It was one of many societal trends my mother was very serious about, she believed that everything that was important about life she learned from dancing. Once you've practiced the basics for most of your young adult life, picking up on the ever constant advance of dance steps is easy."

And then a pause as he coaches her into a cuddle position and speaks against her hair, (hair Stefan knows smells like fruit and flowers) his eyes closed.

"I always saved a dance for her. She never ceased to be thrilled, she said, to have _the _Damon Salvatore, her little boy waltz her across the floor. It was a luxury."

"I bet she was proud of you," Elena smiles, tugging their arms around, her hands moving to run through the raven black hair at the nape of his neck, their eyes locked, as she speaks to him in a way no one else can replicate, "I know she was."

And with the words Damon crumbles.

His eyes shining with an acceptance he's never felt, as he tips her chin up to his. Their lips met as his arm moves around her waist, securing her to his body with the press of his hand. The kiss deepens, their lips slanting over each other again and again as their hands twine in each other's hair. It is warm and welcome and speaks of a passion only two people who have suffered the type of grief and lost love can feel, together.

Stefan stiffens, fighting the urge to break their moment. To pull them apart and throw them to opposite walls. Or at least walk down the steps, be the martyr and push them apart with a look.

And he's not sure they'd notice.

He may be pining for a love he lost, because he knows he only has himself to blame, there isn't an original to compel him to forget, or a woman to constantly ask him to remember.

But he knows Elena isn't pining.

She isn't going to Damon to ask him to soothe the ache left by the younger Salvatore, she's going to him because somehow, he brings her back to life, out of the darkness, because he is the half she didn't know she was looking for.

Stefan stands, firm with the knowledge that their love for each other is exactly, without a shadow of a doubt, what the other needs, even if it feels like a stake twisting beside his heart.

They say 'if you love someone, let them go.'

But it's not as much about letting her go as it is accepting that she _needs _to be, that she _belongs_ with someone else, more so than she ever did with him.

It's about seeing his brother happy for the first time in over a century.

He breezes up the stairs and enters his room, blood bag forgotten, barely wondering whether or not they will walk into Damon's room and take the step they both been ghosting above. He peers down the steps, to see that their charcoal shadows are gone from the walls.

And with the shadows gone, their doors shut in unison.

_Hello young lovers who ever you are  
__I hope your troubles are few  
__All my good wishes go with you tonight  
__I've been in love like you_

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I can't wait to hear from you!

xoxo,

Arrington


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